Workaholic
by mrpotatohead1144
Summary: Ron Weasley is all grown up. He moved out of the burrow, lives in his own flat, and works for the Daily Prophet. And thats it. He has no family, no love life to speak of, etc. Until he metts Fleur Declour again.


Ron Weasley sat up in his bed and ran a hand through his fiery red hair. He yawned widely, and rubbed his open to look at his clock.

As usual, it was exactly 7:15 in the morning in England, and another boring day in the life of Ron Weasley began. Ever since he left Hogwarts, his contact with Harry, Hermione, and Ginny decreased greatly. Hermione had still been dating Vicktor Krum when they graduated, and Harry and Ginny were extremely in love with each other. Ron was shoved out of the picture very quickly, and realized it wasn't worth trying to keep contact.

He moved out after he got a job at the _Daily Prophet _ and moved into his own small flat. This small, one bedroom home was enough for him, as long as he wasn't bothered.

Work started at 8:30 every morning, but Mr. Timmons required everyone be in the office by 8:00. Not 8:01, 8:00. Ron usually had to retype at least three reports before lunch break, and he then would usually have to retype those three reports over until 5:45, when his day was over. It didn't give him a huge salary, but he never needed one, with just him to feed and all.

He got out of bed and walked into the small bathroom. He looked in the mirror, and saw a sullen face with crazy red hair, dark circles under his eyes, and a frown that didn't please him. He picked up his comb and ran it through his hair a few times before it laid down flat. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, shaved, and looked back in the mirror. Now he looked somewhat approachable.

Now he wore clothes that had not a single speck of maroon on them, and never wore sweaters with R's on them. Those were in a box at the back of his closet. Today, he wore a white collared shirt with khaki pants. The usual. Except the shirts sometimes vary in color.

He walked into his kitchen and put a piece of bread in the morning, which ended up being burnt. He tried again, and again, but they turned out the same way. Black and crispy.

He grunted, figuring he could pick something up on the way.

He never did get his breakfast, and barely managed to walk in the door at 7:59. He walked upstairs to his office, then went straight to his cubicle. A couple of people said, "Good Morning," or "Nice to see you, Ron." He just nodded and kept walking.

He sat down and was greeted with 4 papers that looked like a Christmas tree, they had so much red ink over them. He sighed, and read the big yellow post-it-note that said, 'REDO AND TURN INTO ME BEFORE LUNCH.' Ron could almost hear the words being yelled as he read them.

He sighed, and ran a hand through his thick red hair. Suddenly, Hailey Block stuck her head over the side of the cubicle.

"You work to hard, you know that?' she said, smiling.

Without looking up, he answered, "And you don't work at all."

Her smile disappeared. "Hey, don't get all mad. You got it lucky today. I have 6 to rewrite before lunch."

He looked up at her and asked, "How long are they?"

Her head disappeared for a moment, then she returned. "2 pages long each."

He frowned. "I have to rewrite 4 papers that are at least 5 pages. YOU have it lucky."

She shrugged. "I don't want to miss lunch again, so as long as I get it done, its fine by me. But seriously, you work too hard. What time did you leave this place last night?"

"The time I was supposed to, or the time I actually walked outside?"

"The second one."

"12:30."

Hailey sighed and shook her head. "Ever heard of a vacation? It really helps. Go to the States. I went there when I was 14, and I had a blast."

Ron looked up at her again, and his frowned deepened. "Your father is an auror. He made more than mine did. I don't have the money to travel, or take a vacation, or work any less hard than I do. I pay rent, buy my own food, pay my own bills, and things with money I earned. I had no help from daddy dearest."

Hailey's grin disappeared, and she glared. "Fine. I didn't want to talk to you anyway," she returned to her own cubicle.

Ron sighed again and rubbed his eyes. He really didn't get enough sleep. But he had to finish these. He could go without breakfast, but not breakfast **and **lunch.

About 30 minutes later, he was walking to Mr. Timmons' office, wearing a solemn face.

Once he was inside, he laid the paper on his boss' desk. Mr. Timmons looked up and frowned. "This better be better than the original, Weasley."

Ron sighed, remembering his Hogwarts days when Draco Malfoy and his goons called to him by his last name only.

"Yes, Mr. Timmons," he answered, like a schoolboy obeying his teacher.

"I'll review it and let you know"

Ron nodded and left his office to go work on the next three.

It was 12:30 and Ron had just finished the last article. After turning it in to Mr. Timmons, he headed off to the staffroom to eat whatever they had delivered.

When he got there, Hailey, Greg, Ashley, Corey, Nathan, Laura, and Lindsay were all talking, eating sushi and sipping coffee. The chatter seized when Ron glumly fixed himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a plate of sushi.

He dropped into a chair, and began eating. He noticed everyone staring at him, and he looked up. "Yes?" he asked.

"Hailey's right. You work way too hard," Greg said. Ron shot a look at Hailey, who seemed suddenly interested in the hem of her skirt.

"You have bags under your eyes, I haven't seen you smile in a month, you never go out with us after work anymore. Face it, Ron. You're boring and a workaholic," Corey said, and everyone nodded.

Ron sighed, and rubbed his eyes. He could feel himself falling asleep, so he took a long sip of the hot coffee.

He said nothing, for he was too busy thinking. Maybe he did work too hard. It was true that he hadn't smiled in quite a while. In fact, he can't remember the last time he laughed or cracked a joke. Hailey, Greg, Ashley, Corey, Nathan, Laura, Lindsay, and himself used to go out to a muggle karaoke bar every Friday after work. He hadn't been in six weeks. He was always tired, and never seemed to get a day off.

"I feel like a machine," he mumbled. Nathan looked at him. "What was that, mate?"

"I said I feel like a machine. I never have fun, and my day is so predictable. I have no life outside of work," Ron droned. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"When was the last time you went on a date?" Corey asked. Ron shrugged.

"Have you been on one in the last 10 weeks?"

Ron shrugged again, not wanting to admit he hadn't had a date in a year.

Corey sighed. "Man, you need to get a girl." Hailey shot him a look, she was very opinionated on sexism.

Greg nodded and agreed with Corey. "If you had a wife, I bet you'd come here every morning with a smile, and pictures of your kids would be all over your desk."

Ron took a sip of his coffee, and smiled slightly at the pleasant thought. Maybe he could have that. He was 35, and he hadn't dated in a year. He never married, and couldn't keep a girlfriend for more than 6 months.

He put his coffee down and ran a hand through his red hair for what seemed like the umpteenth time today. He was always stressed.

Ron stood, and walked back to his cubicle, thinking of what they all had said.

When he reached his desk, he found all four articles that he had just redone. They were the exact same thing as the original. A Christmas tree. A big, loud, red Christmas tree.

He growled and began banging his head against his desk.


End file.
